And all you green things. Vines on trees on shrubs on vines. Honeysuckle on red berry clusters. All imaginable shades of green tangling over each other in a frantic heap of last-minute growth spurts. Blooming your hearts out before fall lights you up. You might be my favorite. You leaves and branches know how to work your good side, backlit by those opportune sunbursts. Transformed. You reach out and then fall back, but I know you. You’re not shy at all. You’re flirting. You want me to want you, and oh baby, I do. So even if it makes me look a little crazy to the no one who observes me on that long stretch of road–I give in. I’ll stop and take you in and try to catch that essence of woodsy summer that makes it even here amidst high-rise construction and the occasional fertilizer plant. It’s your swan song and you’re making the most of it. You make me crave plums and ice in glasses and no-makeup days. I’d wear sundresses forever if it meant you stuck around. (I wish I could wear sundresses forever anyway.)

We both know this isn’t gonna last and that you might not even be around tomorrow. But wouldn’t you agree we had it good while it lasted? I know I would.